


Love Kills

by VictoriaWitch



Series: Yandere collection [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Edging, F/M, Gun Violence, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Serial Killers, Unrequited Love, Yandere, yandere tendo satori
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26150131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaWitch/pseuds/VictoriaWitch
Summary: You're his favorite obsession. The center of all his affection. He'll do anything to have you.
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Reader
Series: Yandere collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903909
Comments: 30
Kudos: 146





	Love Kills

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time attempting a yandere character, but I felt Tendo was 100% a great character to start with!

If Oikawa was the Great King at Aoba Johsai, you were undoubtedly the Queen. You didn’t belong to the ever-popular setter in any sense, nor anyone else. But you had managed to capture the heart and attention of just about everyone at the University. Captain of the cheer squad, a favorite member of the dance troupe, and even the president of a Saturday anime club; you mixed with every group to cross your path. Despite the lack of romance between the two of you, you and Oikawa were mistaken as a couple quite frequently. Rarely were the two of you ever found apart from each other, practically attached at the hip. He was your best friend, even if you disapproved of some of the business, he had been entangled in. Not like he had much of a choice, leading the Seijo seemed like a birth-right for the brunette. His family had been running the yakuza branch for as long as its history could be traced. Your family was an officiate of their branch, often working for them and getting caught up in the crossfire between Seijo and Shiratorizawa. Not you, though. You were forbidden from being part of that life, and if anyone were to enforce that rule, it was your brother. While you knew the business your family was involved with could be a bit shady, you had no idea how serious everything was. Your parents, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa had devised clever covers and pretty lies to shield you from the truth. 

You smile, waving to your brother and Oikawa as you approach them. “Tōru! Iwa-nii-san!” Your chipper voice immediately draws them from the hushed conversation they had been in the middle of, quickly putting a lid on the situation as you made your way closer. 

“(Name)-chan!” Oikawa greets back, quickly moving away from the agitated ravenette to wrap you in his arms. “How was class?” 

“Fine,” you giggle, his breath tickling as he spoke into the crown of your head. 

“Enjoying your second year?” 

“Of course! Much more excitement than my first.”

“Oh?” Iwaizumi queries, a frown quick to replace his quizzical expression as he watches a mischievous smirk pull across your lips. Oikawa already knows what that devilish grin means and nearly shivers with excitement. Iwaizumi merely scoffs at the two of you, turning on his heels to begin walking in the direction of your home. 

“Kunimi-kun invited me to a party tonight!” There’s a pitched hum that comes from Oikawa, and while he does his best to guise it as playful curiosity, you can easily read through the cover. There’s a distressed signal radiating from him, one Iwaizumi is quick to replicate, albeit far more annoyed than the young leader. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have two years over you, and while majority of the men that work with them are also on their final year of University, there are some that fall into the younger years. 

“I’d prefer if you didn’t go to this one,” Iwaizumi admits with his usual tone that leaves little room for argument. Of course, you always challenge him. 

“Why? I want to go out with Kunimi and Tōru.” 

“I’m with Iwa-chan, this time. You shouldn’t attend tonight’s party.” He wants to add how you shouldn’t have even been invited or know about the event, but that’s an issue he’ll take up with your fellow classmate later. 

You pout at him, lower lip jutting out halfway above your top, “Why?” Oikawa gives you an apologetic smile, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you right against his side. The action elicits a small giggle that he relishes in. 

“It’s a party that Iwa-chan and I are having for our friends. It’s a guy-only event.” 

“You got strippers, didn’t you?” You deadpan, but it only strokes Oikawa’s amusement, making him laugh. The reaction makes you confident in your assumption, but you couldn’t be farther from the truth. You huff, arms folding over your chest, “I still wouldn’t be opposed to attending. That may actually give me more of a reason to go.” 

“Hm?” A chestnut brow raises at you, a curious smirk pulled across his lips. 

“Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi snaps from the front of the group, reeling the brunette from his tainted thoughts. Oikawa quickly clears his throat, dropping the look of curious excitement from his face. 

“Right. Guys only. How about this!” He squeezes at your hip, his hand lowering from your waist, “you and I will go out this weekend. I’ll take you to that club you were so excited about.” 

“And you’ll dance with me?” 

“I will.”

“You’ll dance with me until I’m tired?” He chuckles, leaning down to place a kiss to your temple before quietly speaking against your skin, “Until they kick us out.” 

Unseen by the two of you, Iwaizumi rolls his eyes to the back of his skull. The rumor of you two dating could easily be believed, even by him. Neither of you were willing to make things official, sticking to your claims of best friends like white on rice, but he wasn’t oblivious. Iwaizumi noticed the mornings you trotted into the kitchen after coming down the stairs, or the way Oikawa would creep in from the pool house at the crack of dawn. Your discrepancy was lacking on all sides, especially the nights the two of you got too loud. Iwaizumi would never forget the way your haunting screams and moans sent Kyotani into a feral rage. 

**~*~*~*~*~**

You had decided to wait to go to your pool house until after Iwaizumi and Oikawa finished getting ready. While the estate was large enough to house you along with the others who resided in it, Oikawa and Iwaizumi insisted you move into the one-bedroom pool house, claiming they’d feel more comfortable if you had an escape from living with a bunch of rowdy men. You didn’t mind the privacy, and you were still welcomed to go into the main house whenever you pleased. “Try to behave,” you tease, fixing the collar of the turquoise button-up Oikawa had on. 

“As you wish,” he chuckles lightly, watching as you dotted over making sure his outfit was in perfect order. Satisfied with the way his white, silk tie fixated around his neck and down his chest, you finally looked up at him. The amount of simple adoration spilling from his chocolate eyes made your cheeks flush before you backed away from him. 

“Perfect!” He hums in agreement, but unbeknownst to you, he’s not thinking about himself. He’s thinking of you. How the setting sun casts a beautiful shade of gold across your skin, how your eyes sparkle like rare stones, the way you smile makes him feel like he was invincible. He steps forward, wrapping a hand around the back of your head to keep you in place as his lips brush against your forehead. When he lets go, your cheeks are bright red. All you can do is advert your gaze from him and shoo him from the back deck, coaxing him to go back inside where Iwaizumi is waiting for him. Once he’s fully out of sight, you release the breath you had been holding, an airy sigh escaping your lips. You truly wish swooning over him was more difficult, you’d give anything to care for him less. The only thing stopping you from trying to pursue more than what you already have is Iwaizumi. Him and Oikawa had been best friends for as long as you could remember, and if you and Oikawa didn’t work out, you knew it would devastate their friendship. 

Upon entering the pool house, you immediately unbutton the top of your uniform, pulling the bow loose from around your neck. You saunter into the kitchen, rummaging around for a snack. The cool air from the fridge causes goosebumps to spread across your exposed torso as you open it, quickly snatching out a water and a yogurt. Leaning against the counter, you reach back and snatch a plastic spoon from a little container before digging into the cool treat, taking a minute to unwind and plan the rest of your evening. It was a school night, meaning you should study for your classes tomorrow, but your body aches in ways you don’t want to acknowledge from your dance practice earlier. Tossing the empty container and spoon into the trash, you settle on relaxing in a bath for a while. To ease your tense muscles if nothing else. A prick of fear whispers against the back of your neck the moment you step into your bedroom, forcing your steps to falter. You quickly glance around you room, but nothing is amiss. Shaking the nagging suspicion of something out of ordinary, something dangerous lurking around, you collect clean clothes to change into and a towel. Any lingering uneasiness washes away the second you step into the bathroom, and a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding escapes. “ _It was probably Kyotani,_ ” you tell yourself, though it only does so much to settle your nerves. It seemed like his sights were so intently set on you that he could see through anything that obscured his view of you. His honey-brown stare was the definition of piercing. 

The tub had just finished draining when a muffled bang resounded from somewhere in the distance. Dread hangs over you like a personal storm cloud, clinging to your form and refusing to budge. Peering out the bathroom window, you can see lights flicking on through the main house before a tall, slender form zips through the kitchen. His build is foreign, and you know it’s not Kyotani or any of the other men that live in the house. Not even bothering to dry off, you toss on the navy boy shorts and gray tank top you had grabbed prior to entering the bathroom. Still dripping water, you slide out of the tiled room and sprint to the main door that leads in and out of the pool house. Fingers just grazing the cool knob, you stop, your breath freezing in your lungs. The icy sensation of death dances down your spine and you _know_ someone is watching you. You’re caught between turning around to face whoever broke in or ripping the door open and running. There’s a chance they’ll catch you, you know that, but sitting and waiting to be nothing more than an empty shell on the floor seems far crueler. The chair in the corner creaks as a weight is lifted from it, and at the same moment your hand completely wraps around the door handle. There’s no sound besides your blood rushing like a current through your ears. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier,” a voice coos right beside your ear, their body nearly flush against your back. Two hands land on your hips, using their grip to spin you to face them. Vermillion eyes gaze down at you with a deranged sense of adoration, “you go and react like that!” Unruly, bright red locks with eyes that match, fair skin, and despite his lanky build, you can feel his strength as his fingers continue to dig against your flesh. You’ve never seen him before, but something in your gut screams that you should know who he is. And you should be _fucking petrified_.

Just staring up at him, you feel as if you’ve already died, your body going stiff with rigor mortis, completely unable to move. He can see the unfamiliarity in the way you look at him and he pouts. _Really, you should know who he is_. There’s no way you hadn’t heard about him. He flashed a grin that feels more malicious than it does charming, “Tendo Satori,” he greets. All color drains from your face, his name twirling through your ear drums and coiling around your heart like a snake. Iwaizumi and Oikawa had warned you of him explicitly. Tendō Satori, the right-hand man for the Shiratorizawa yakuza. Rumored to be a serial killer, but none of his victims could even be identified or tied to him, constantly letting him off the hook. The bodies of the women he killed were always found in similar places, under a Sakura tree or on the same riverbank. It never registered in your mind that the bodies were dumped under your favorite type of tree or in the same park you used to frequent, often sitting by the river to read. You never thought twice on how they resembled you; the same hair color, usually even the same length as yours. Their similar fashion sense or even the way their dead eyes were lifeless, muted replications of your own. 

Tendō had an obsession, one he was forbidden from exploring further by Ushijima. To placate himself, he found others to play your role. But they weren’t the same. _They weren’t you_. His obsession, the center of his affection. None of the girls he had taken in your place could live up to their expectations. Tendo couldn’t blame them, they weren’t you, after all. Nonetheless, he couldn’t allow them to live and risk ruining his plans to get what should be his. Their bodies had been mutilated to the point of being unrecognizable. Bones broken to shards, flesh battered and bruised, limbs stripped raw of any flesh and even some muscle. Most details of his victims’ bodies were kept tight under wraps, too gruesome to reveal to the public. 

His smile only grew as he watches your body come alive in the most glorious shade of dread. Body trembling, your teeth chattering from the unbearable coldness nipping at your insides. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as you felt your knees begin to buckle, legs threatening to give out under the weight of his presence. Your lower lip quivers, a strangled squeak making it out into the open before you finally manage to choke out, “y-you’re a s-s-serial killer.” 

“Oh, no! Nothing so sinister, Princess.” 

“She’s scared, Satori. Not stupid,” another voice scoffs out, walking in from the direction of the kitchen. You looked around Tendo to see another tall, suit-clad male with sandy locks and chocolate eyes. He wore a scowl that seemed to perfectly compliment the way he chided Tendo. 

“Hush, Semisemi. You’ll ruin the game I have planned.” Tendo’s hand caresses the side of your face, applying the slightest bit of pressure to bring your attention back to him. “I don’t think of myself as a serial killer. After all, it’s not like I wanted to kill them. I didn’t even want to take them!” The madness in his stare slips into his voice, sending shockwaves of ice through your veins. His hand balls under your jaw, knuckles brushing against the ridge until his hand is under your chin. If he wasn’t absolutely bat-shit crazy, the way his expression softened to something of genuine affection would have made your heart skip a beat. “I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you; I just wasn’t allowed to take you. But now we can be together.” Tendo hums happily, his thumb extending up to swipe across your plush lips, “you’ll finally be mine. _All mine_.” Splashes of the void dance in front of your eyes before you feel every muscle in your body give out, darkness fully enveloping you as your unconscious form rushes to the floor. 

**~*~*~*~*~**

Static vibrates through your limbs, making the groggy wake up even more excruciating. Going to move your arm in attempt to wake it up, you find it trapped at your side. Memories of what happened flood your brain and you jolt in a panic, knowing your nightmare if far from over. You look down to find yourself tied to one of your kitchen chairs. Grunting as you thrash against the restraints, Tendo is alerted to your revival. “Oh, goodie! ~” His voice is a pleasant chirp that only makes your muscles pull taunt as your skin desperately tries to crawl away. He saunters over to you with his hands clasped behind his back, but his jovial mood seems to drop as you once again begin to fight your restraints in a desperate, pitiful attempt to escape. His expression darkens, jaw clenching as his teeth ground together. “Princess, Princess, I don’t appreciate you being so bratty.” The sneer his words bring quickly fade as you watch him inspect a gun he had been hiding behind his back. Watching the fight drain from your orbs brings a surge of excitement through him, a smirk forming to replace that of his disappointment. The barrel raises until it’s in perfect line with your skull, and all you can do is watch as his finger falls from along the side of the gun to curl around the trigger. Your eyes snap shut moments before a deafening bang rings out. A tinge of rust forms in your throat at the piercing scream you release. Aside from the white-hot fire in your lungs, you don’t register any other sensation. No pain, no crimson seeping from any open wounds. Mustering enough courage, you crack your eyes open only to find Tendo’s face directly in front of yours, the gun now lingering right under your chin. “Aren’t you happy I didn’t shoot you?” 

You don’t know how it happens, but you manage to sputter out a breathless, “yes.” 

“Then prove it.” The cold metal of the weapon presses firm against you, forcing your head to lift until your lips are in direct line with his. You know what he wants, and the likelihood of him pulling the trigger if you refuse. Swallowing every ounce of pride you have, you tentatively press your lips to his, keeping your eyes open the entire time. It’s a short-lived moment as you break away from him as soon as he begins to reciprocate. “Let’s play a game.” 

“A game?” You question in a whisper so low a breeze could carry it away. 

“Consider it more of a deal!” Tendo swaggers over to your couch, setting the gun on the glass table pressed against the backboard of the seat. He promptly returns in front of you, summoning his phone from the pocket of his maroon slacks. “You admit you want me, and I’ll have Semi release your friends unharmed. Well,” he giggles as his head cants to the side, “not harmed any further.” There’s no point in asking what happens if you don’t, the silence he lets hang in the air an answer enough to the unspoken half of his demented game. 

The words roll off your tongue with less effort than you’d like, but you can’t pass on an easy escape. Especially if Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s safety rest on your participation of this twisted contest. “I want you.” His brows raise, but you can see the disbelief in the way his face contours. “I want you, Tendo,” you repeat, this time with a whinier husk as you lean your face closer to his. It’s a risk, playing into his distorted sense of reality, but you know you can pull it off. You’ve had to fake interest one too many times to have no mastered the skill. He leans closer, his lips ghosting over yours, making you whimper as you try to close the gap, but the restraints keep you from doing so. 

“Satori, please,” the use of his first name pushes him over the edge. Both of his hands cup your jaw on either side before his lips meet yours in a heated mess of faux passion. Your lips move against his effortlessly, keeping up with his hungry pace. Darting your tongue out, you swipe it across his bottom lip, asking for entrance. It takes everything in you to fight back the bile stinging the back of your throat, but you repeat a mantra of _‘I can do this’_ in your head. He parts his lips with a soft groan, letting your tongue invade his warm cavern. The sensation of your slick muscle running against his makes your body tense with a suppressed cringe, but you softly moan into his mouth to cover the disgust as pleasure. Tendo breaks away first, a string of saliva the only thing connecting the two of you. His mouth moves to your neck, kissing from your jaw down to the soft spot at the base. As lithe fingers work to undo your bindings, his teeth dig into your flesh as his tongue laves over the mark, he sucked into you. Once the rope is gone, his hands move to slip under your thighs and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck just as he lifts you off the chair. Your lips meet in a fury of battling tongues and clashing teeth, only breaking apart when he sits down on the couch with you on his lap. Without any guidance from him your grind your hips down against him, feeling his hardness press against your thinly clothed core. You kiss him again before trailing over his jaw and down the column of his throat. Tendo groans at the feeling, his hands coming around to grab and knead at the flesh of your ass. He uses his intense grip to grind you against him, “ _fuck_ , you feel so good. I need more!” A red-light flashes in your mind like a warning signal not to proceed any further. You need to convince him of your devotion, but the idea of him fucking you. Your stomach tightens as your gut wretches at the thought. 

Your hands fly to his chest just as he starts fiddling with the buckle on his pants, “Satori, I,” you break eye contact with him, worrying at your lower lip as you feign innocence. “I haven’t gone all the way before. I-I’m nervous.” 

“Oh, Princess,” he coos, nuzzling into your neck in attempt to be comforting. “That’s okay. We won’t go all the way. Not on the first round.” With his face buried in your neck, he misses the way your nostrils flare and upper lip curls back in loathing. Shaking off the thought of having to go past whatever limit he has set in his mind; you nod your head. Tendo takes your hands in his, guiding them down to the hem of his pants. You take the hint, undoing the button and zipper for him. You sit higher on your knees, allowing him room to slip his trousers off. You give an experimental roll of your hips and almost relish in the sensation having less restriction brings. 

Tendo palms one of your breasts through your tank top, his thumb rubbing in circles over your nipple until he feels it pebble under his touch. He yanks the thin straps down your arms, encouraging you to pull them out so he can roll the top down just enough to expose the two mounds of flesh. His hands press them together, jiggling them with a thumb pressed against the underside before giving a throaty growl and diving forward. With his mouth wrapped around one nipple, tongue flicking over and rolling around the hardened bud, his fingers mimic the motion on the other. Your head cocks to the side as you moan, hands grabbing at his shirt as you thrust your hips against him. You can feel the dampness in your panties increase, slowly beginning to seep through and soak onto his boxers. The cotton of your bottoms creates a wonderful textured rub against your throbbing clit, but it’s just not enough. 

“Satori,” his name comes out in the combination of a mewl and a whine, begging him for more. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he purrs after pulling away from your breast with a slick pop. His hands hold your hips like a vice, slowing your desperate hip rolls to nothing. He tilts his head back, looking straight into your eyes. He’s rock hard and can see the pleading in the way you look down at him with a longing you won’t announce. “You have to tell me what you want, Princess.” 

You groan out, trying to force your throbbing cunt back down to grind against him, but the effort is futile. “Please!” 

A slap to your ass makes you jump, the sting left behind far less intense than you’re used to, but the unexpectedness of it caught you off guard. Tendo tuts at you, shaking his head with a mocking smirk, “you have to tell me exactly what you want.” 

“I want to cum,” you blurt out, voice acidic. The tonal shift re-awakens that darkness in him, and you quickly find yourself with a hand wrapped tight around your throat. 

“What was that?” The question is a hiss, dripping with malice and a tightening threat against your windpipe. 

“I want you to make me cum! _Please_ , Satori,” you whimper as your vision begins to darken, but he finally releases your neck. 

A lowly chuckle rumbles from the back of his throat, “that’s a good girl.” The hand that had been latched to your throat quickly winds into your hair as the other slaps against your inner thigh, “stand up.” You obey, ignoring the sting along your scalp that accompanies your movements. He gestures to the navy bottoms you have on, “take them off.” 

“But I thought -“

“Don’t you worry, Princess. I won’t fuck you yet.” He brings his face close to yours, veering off to the side at the last moment to brush his lips against your ear, “I just want to see your pretty little pussy.” Tendo’s tongue flicks along the rim of your ear, sending a bolt of ice across your vertebra. With much reluctance, you oblige his command. The instant your underwear hit the floor, your yanked into his lap where he slowly thrusts up against you. The silk material of his boxers catches against your clit, eliciting an involuntary moan. The sound alone nearly makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. His patience is running thin, he wants nothing more than to feel you against him and he knows just how to get what he wants. Making sure his cock is pressed perfectly against your buzzing bundle of nerves, he thrusts harder with long, consistent strokes. Your moans fill in the silence as he savors how ethereal you look above him, lust hazing your beautiful optics as bliss forces your brows to furrow. He stops his movements as you’re on the cusp of orgasm and your head slams against his shoulder with a tormented cry. “I need to feel you against me,” he whines, quickly slipping his boxers just low enough to free himself. The arousal dripping from your cunt slicks his dick and makes it even easier for him to rut against you. You can feel every vein and ridge that makes up his length, and with every buck the head of his cock knocks against your clit. 

“ _Oh, fuck_ ,” your head rocks back, unable to ignore the heat pulsing through your veins or the pleasure stacking in your lower stomach. Tendo moans, his head coming to rest against your shoulder as his arms wrap around your waist. 

“Princess, _oh fuck_ , you feel so good. I want you so bad, I don’t want anyone else to have you.” His teeth drag from your shoulder, down, and across your collar bone. “You’re mine. Anyone who tries to take you from me is dead,” a whimper rolls off his tongue as he bucks against your core relentlessly. “You’re mine. Mine, _mine, **mine**_!” His possessiveness reignites the fear that had been lying dormant, but quickly ebbs away as your feel the coil in your core tighten to a threatening level. “ _Shit_. Cum with me, Princess. Cum on my cock. Let me know who made you feel this good.” 

“Satori!” You cry out with a keen as your body jolts against him, your orgasm hitting fast and hard. A few thrusts later and he follows suit, coming undone and spilling his load against his stomach. 

There’s a few minutes of silence as you both come down, but there’s no basking in the afterglow. Not for you. “Satori,” it comes out as a breathless whisper laced with a plea. You pull back just enough to be able to see eye to eye with him. “Send the text for them to be let go, and we can get out of here.” As the words register, his brows knit together, and he wordlessly stares at you; incredulously observing your expression. You frown, pressing your chest firmly against his as your arms drape over his shoulders, the insides of your elbows pressed against his neck. “You’re going to take me with you, right?” The pout you wear is sickening, so full of helpless distraught it nearly makes him hard again. Your face cradles into the crook of his neck, “I want to be with you, Satori. Don’t tell me you’re going to leave me behind with them.” The words leave a bitter sting along your lips, but Tendo can practically taste your sincerity. 

“Of course, I will!” He hastily grabs his phone from off the couch, first having to rummage through the pocket of his pants to find it. When he finishes sending Semi the text to release your brother and Oikawa, he patiently stares at the screen. He awaits confirmation and the moment he gets it a saccharine smile is bestowed upon him. His heart skips a beat, watching your face come to life in a mix of relief and joy. He never expected you to be so elated over leaving with him. He never expected you to return his love so willingly. He was sure he’d have to train you, teach you just why you should be with him. Show you all the reasons you’d be perfect together. He wraps both arms around your waist, pulling you against him in a tight embrace. His forehead rests against your chin, a smile plastered to his face as he whispers with uncharted devotion how much he loves you. He can feel you smile against him as you fiddle with the back of the couch. 

“I love you too,” you kiss his forehead as one hand moved to fiddle with the red strands against the back of his neck. “But you know, they say you should be careful with who you love.” 

He hums, closing his eyes as he enjoys your first talk as a couple, “why’s that?” 

“You never know who the other person really is.” Before he can question your further, the metal of his gun is pressed against the side of his skull before you pull the trigger without so much as batting a lash over the decision. His blood splatters across your face, earning a sneer of revolt in return. You jump off his lap, pulling your shirt up while swiping your soiled panties off the floor. You change into a pair of cotton shorts before throwing a ratty towel over Tendo’s lifeless body, certain neither men will want to see how _exposed_ he is. You sit in the chair that lingers in the corner, just under the window, allowing the soft light of the moon kiss your crimson-stained flesh. After the killers body is properly disposed of, there’s a _long_ conversation to be had between you, your brother, and Oikawa.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone would like to request a yandere one shot of a chatacter (HxH, Haikyuu, Naruto, or BNHA) I am accepting requests! You may do so in the comments, or send me a request on twitter @VictoriaWitch2.


End file.
